And a City Wide, Blue
by Imadra Blue
Summary: Long after the events of "Bloodlust," a wounded D seeks shelter for himself and a child bitten by a vampire in Barbarois-a city filled with mutants, demons, and a dunpeal connected to his past. Gen with pre-slash and mentions of past het.


**Disclaimer:** _Vampire Hunter D_ and all related franchises belong to Hideyuki Kikuchi. This story is for entertainment purposes and not for profit.  
**Written For:** Yuletide 2010. My recipient was Erin C.  
**Notes:** This story is based solely off the _Vampire Hunter D_ anime films, as I unfortunately have not had the time or money to invest in the novels. I used the anime spellings, such as "dunpeal" instead of "dhampir." This is mostly gen, but there is a touch of slash and a mention of past canon het. I deeply thank my two excellent beta readers, Shayheyred and Oberstein. Concrit is always appreciated on any of my fics.

. . .

D approached the towering doors that led into the city of Barbarois, ignoring the complaints of Left Hand as he reined the horse to a stop. The Barbarois had recovered over the last century since the Marcus Brothers had attacked them. Their dusty city barely showed any signs of damage. The windmills still spun, marking the seconds with every turn. Above, the sky burned black and draped the city in its darkness.

The small girl in D's arms moaned and stirred, but he kept a firm grip on her until she settled. He studied the entrance to Barbarois and noted the doors were still the color of old blood, bearing patterns that marked the city as a bastion for all outcasts and creatures of the night. That day, D approached the city not as a hunter of these creatures, but as one of them.

"I am D, the hunter," he said. "I seek shelter."

The doors groaned and shuddered, then gave way to allow him entrance. D's horse cantered inside. The girl moaned again and clutched D's arm. Inside, the Barbarois' city revealed signs of old damage. Some of the archways lay crumbled, and the amount of luminescent eyes peering at him from the shadows seemed fewer. Many of the creatures who stood on the rising stone shelves of the city bore scars. The smell remained the same, the smell of earth and dust and decay: the smell of monsters.

The old man on a unicycle did not greet him this time. Instead, it was a woman without a face, her hands folded neatly across her stomach. The tatters of her gray dress fluttered in the wind, though her hood remained unnaturally still.

"D. The hunter," she said, her voice echoing in his mind rather than in the air. "The dunpeal who brought destruction to our city a century ago. Yet, you come here again, seeking our protection."

D did not answer. The girl clung to him, wetting his tunic with her tears.

"Dismount and follow me." The woman turned away and walked up a set of crumbling steps. D did as she instructed, following her up a flight of stone steps. She paused by an open doorway and stood to the side, silent and still, as if she were an abandoned doll placed in the corner. D stepped inside the dark room, finding it lit by a single candle and the glowing red eyes of a dunpeal.

D gripped the hilt of his sword and held the girl tighter. _I told you this was a bad idea_, said Left Hand. _A very bad idea._

"So." The dunpeal leaned forward and lit another candle. Lanky black hair hung over his pale face. Beneath his black clothing, his lean body stretched as taut as a cat ready to pounce. "You're the infamous D. You're even more beautiful than they said you were. Bet that helps you out on the job, eh?"

D narrowed his eyes and made sure his sword was loose in its scabbard. The girl drew in jagged breaths and whimpered, squirming against his chest.

The dunpeal's head tilted to the side and his hair slid across his face, obscuring his features. Scars trailed over his bared jaw and down his neck, disappearing beneath his black collar. "You've got some balls, coming back here. Did you think your pretty face would win you friends?"

"I had nothing to do with your city's destruction. I had only come to negotiate when the Marcus Brothers attacked."

"Fair enough. So why did you come back?"

D slipped his bag from his shoulders and dumped it on the floor. The coins clanked and jingled, creating their own dissonant music until they settled. "Fifty million dollars." It was his entire earnings for this job, but there was little he could do. "I require shelter for the night and medical attention for both myself and the girl."

"It's not enough."

D dumped his coin purse onto the floor. "Another million. It's all I have."

"Before we go any further, I need to know if this will bring harm to my city. If it does, I will kill you. The safety of the Barbarois is my responsibility, see."

"The Noble will not come here. And I will leave before he recovers."

"A Noble, eh?" The dunpeal leaned back. "I will accept your meager payment, on a single condition."

"That being?"

"I'll let you know when I've decided."

D's upper lip curled of its own accord. "Tell me now, or I will take my money and go."

The dunpeal stood, his long coat rustling with the movement. The candlelight cast odd shadows across it. "I don't think this is really the time to be so proud, pretty pretty. I give you my word as a fellow dunpeal that my condition shall not harm you or the little girl you're holding."

"You are asking me to trust you." D said it not as a question, but as a bald statement of fact.

"You are asking the same of me, by waltzing in here with what is very likely a very powerful vampire's half-eaten meal. And let's not mention that the last time you came here, the Barbarois lost half the city."

_We should leave, D. Who knows what sort of dunpeal this man is? And it's not like we're going to win any popularity contests here. Not that you'd win popularity contests much of anywhere._

"Very well. It seems we will have to trust each other."

The dunpeal grinned, flashing very white, very sharp teeth. He headed towards D, head bowed, hair still hanging across his upper face. "This way, pretty pretty. Mind your step. This old city likes to crumble beneath your feet as you walk."

. . .

The little girl cried out when D washed the bites on her neck. She thrashed and slapped at his face. Her nails caught on his cheek, slicing the skin as if a razor. His cheek bled and she screamed even louder, as if expressing his pain for him. The bloodcurdling sound sent dust spraying from the cracks in the wall. D finished washing her neck and bandaged it with gauze the dunpeal handed him.

"She's young," the dunpeal said after the girl had screamed herself back to sleep. "Can't be any older than five or six, I guess."

"She's five." D sat back on the chair by the girl's bed and undid his cloak. "The Noble likes them young."

"One of those, huh?" The dunpeal nodded as he eyed D. "Why did you save her? She'll change, just the same as anyone else. Did you think it was gonna make you a hero or something?"

"Because her aunt paid me to. If I kill the Noble, she may not turn." D stripped off his tunic, wincing as the cloth peeled away from his bloody stomach, and sat down.

The dunpeal leaned against a sandstone statue of a horned demon, his grin wide and lewd. "Lucky me. I even get a show. Don't suppose I get to lick all that up?"

D ignored him and stared down at the gash in stomach. Blood continued to ooze, dark and rich. The poison had blackened the edges of his wound, and the smell of rotted meat struck him in the face. He licked his lips, allowing himself to feel the pain that he had denied himself all the past day. As it shot through his body, he leaned back against the ancient chair and glared at the dunpeal. "I wouldn't recommend trying to drink from my stomach for two reasons. One being that my blood has been turned to poison. The other being that I will kill you."

"Oh, scary. Don't worry, I was joking. I much prefer the more traditional method of extracting blood from the throat. I suppose you'll want treatment for that wound?"

"Clever of you to figure that out."

The dunpeal laughed, a surprisingly golden sound for someone who constantly draped himself in shadow. "Sexy and sassy. All right, pretty pretty. Try to keep your insides inside, and I'll bring in the nurse."

D winced with every draw of his breath. He had ignored the pain for so long that it seemed as sharp as when the Noble's poison claws had raked across his belly. The Noble had been quick, quicker than D expected. It apparently took all Left Hand had just to keep his heart pumping despite the poison in his veins. His only comfort was that it kept Left Hand largely silent.

The dunpeal returned, accompanied by the woman without a face. She knelt by D and pushed back her hood. Her bald scalp gleamed beneath the lantern light. Everything about her was smooth and featureless. She reached out and touched his stomach. D bit back a gasp of pain.

"She'll have to suck that poison out," the dunpeal said, leaning casually against the stone demon. "But don't worry. She's not a vampire."

The woman's head split open to reveal a mouth full of blunted teeth and the smell of rot. D tensed as a long, pink tongue wound its way out and lapped against his stomach. He felt a pulling beneath his skin as the woman leaned forward, slurping at his wound, as if his blood were rushing out of his veins all at once. He groaned with pain and leaned back, fingers aching as he gripped the chair. Fire raced through his veins and every muscle in his body stretched taut. After a brief eternity, the woman raised her head and the mouth sealed shut, leaving her once again smooth and featureless. D blinked as she drew up her hood and the pain eased to a dull throb.

"Nice show. Want a cigarette?" the dunpeal asked as he lit one of his own.

D turned his attention to the dunpeal but said nothing. The woman gently wrapped his stomach with bandages, her fingers light and cool.

"Guess not." The dunpeal grinned, flashing his sharp, white teeth. "Tell me, D, the hunter, do you get off on killing our kind?"

"I usually hunt vampires. I only hunt dunpeals when they turn." D narrowed his eyes and studied the dunpeal before him. He bore no signs of having turned, no mark of overt blood craving. He had the look of a predator, but not a monster.

"I'm so comforted." The dunpeal tilted his head. His dark hair slid to the other side, still covering the upper half of his face. "If I were the sort of dunpeal to have the occasional hemoglobin snack, you'd have my head for a trophy, eh?"

"I don't keep trophies."

The dunpeal laughed again. "I like you, pretty pretty. You amuse me." The smoke of his cigarette drifted into the air, coiling upwards. He pushed himself off the demon statue and leaned towards D. "I could always stay and make sure no one molests you in your sleep. 'Course, I can't promise that I won't. You are quite tempting."

D drew his head back, eyes narrowing. "I'd prefer to be left alone."

"Suit yourself, then."

D nodded and watched the dunpeal stroll out. The woman followed him, as silent as a shadow slinking along the ground. He sighed and leaned back. His stomach wound continued to ache, twining around his exhaustion. The rhythmic pulse of pain soon lulled him to sleep, to dream of blood.

. . .

D started awake when the girl's tiny fingers clutched his bare arm. He turned to study her. The little girl blinked large brown eyes at him, and her sallow skin seemed drawn tightly about her small frame. Wan sunlight drifted through the slit windows, but the girl still inched away from the dim patch of light. Her blankets pooled around her, giving her the impression of swimming across a black lake.

"Ma… ma?" the girl asked, clambering onto D's lap.

D frowned and did not answer. The girl's mother had been killed by the Noble, but the girl likely did not understand that. She could not even understand what the Noble had done to her when he bit her. D placed his right hand on the girl's head and she stilled. Something of this sad, feeble child reminded D of himself as a boy-desperate and confused.

"Hungry…" The girl looked up at him with limpid eyes, her fingers crawling over his skin. "Feed me, mister?" Her fingers ran frost trails over his bare neck, and her lips drew closer to his neck.

D almost wanted to let her. He lived between his parents' temptations. The temptation of his father lured him to become a predator, to bite and drink the frothy red blood of the humans he met. His mother's temptation lay in the urge to become prey, to bare his throat and let the Nobles drink until he died of ecstasy, drained of his own blood. He did not know which temptation fed his desire more to hunt and kill his father's kind. Perhaps both. D clutched the little girl's hands and placed her back on the bed.

"Ah, ah," she whined, struggling weakly. If he did not kill the Noble soon, she would completely change, and he would have to kill her, too. He held her down on the bed, waiting for her to exhaust herself. She cried out but he did not let go, even when she screamed loud enough to shake the walls. He watched her as she matted her hair on the bed and tangled the sheets in her legs. Her sweat soaked through the blankets. Eventually, she fell asleep, once again as peaceful as an angel. But there were no angels, only demons. He stood and watched the bites on her neck pulse to the rhythm of her heart.

Sometimes, D grew weary of the life he had chosen for himself.

. . .

D stepped out of the room as rain fell over Barbarois. It drummed on the stone, casting a silver shower over the entire city. Down the hall, the dunpeal leaned over a rail, watching the rain as he smoked. The smell of tobacco hung thick in the air.

"You're leaving?" the dunpeal asked without turning around, hair plastered across his face. D wondered what he wished to hide from the world.

"Yes."

The dunpeal turned towards D and tilted his head back. His hair parted, finally revealing an angular face marred by snake trails of scars. His eyes were a startling blue, unique to only one other person D had met. D could never forget Doris Lang. They were her eyes, clear and steady, determined and vulnerable, strong and enticing. "You knew my mother," the dunpeal said.

D gripped the stone railing and said nothing. He doubted he could have spoken, even if he wanted to. Emotions always felt so distant to him, locked behind closed doors he did not know how to open. But this swung open to reveal regret. He refused to enter, as he had refused Doris over two centuries ago.

"How?" D demanded.

"You saved my mother from Magnus Lee, but he had already impregnated her before you arrived. You left just before she started to show." The dunpeal grinned, flashing white teeth. "In a way, you saved my life, too. If she hadn't cared for you, she likely would have aborted me. You proved to her that not all dunpeals are evil."

D bowed his head. An image flashed through his mind, one of him remaining with Doris and even taking in her child, this dunpeal who stood before him. An image where Doris stood beside him, smiling as the sunlight glinted off her golden hair and the green grass stretched around them. Her eyes were as blue as ever, eyes mirrored in the little boy who laughed and held up a flower for D's inspection. The image quickly shattered, for D knew it as a juvenile fantasy. Instead, a more realistic image formed in his mind's eyes, of Doris lying on a bloodstained bed, smiling benignly as D sucked the very life from her and her unborn child.

The dunpeal leaned against the railing and stared up at the rain. His scars gleamed white. "You know, I spent all night thinking about what I should require of you as my condition for your shelter. Of course, come morning, I forgot all the logical, reasonable demands. All I can think of now is to ask if you would let me have a bite, just one. Or if maybe, just maybe, you'll bite me. It's always so confusing for us, isn't it? We're both the predator and the prey, though we tend to think ourselves only as predators. It's easy to forget we're half-human, too."

D raised his head. He had thought it was only him, but then, in his line of work, most dunpeals he met were little better than Nobles. Perhaps he was not so unique as he imagined.

"Such a miserable existence. If it weren't for my mother, I wouldn't let myself suffer like this." The dunpeal sighed and pushed himself off the railing. His lanky hair swung back over his face-a curtain closing the show. "I thought I'd ask you what your reason for abstaining was, but then I decided it wasn't my business. So I decided to ask you for the kiss you never gave my mother. Just one, nothing more."

D studied the dunpeal, his gaze roving over the cruel scars and the gleam of those blue eyes. He stepped forward and pressed his lips against the dunpeal. The dunpeal's lips were cold, but his tongue warm as it slipped inside D's mouth. He gripped the back of D's head, knocked off his hat, and kissed more deeply. Despite himself, D warmed and closed his eyes. He had kissed few people in his lifetime. Every time, it felt strangely intoxicating, a dizzy sort of feeling that aroused his bloodlust, confusing his kiss with a desire to bite and be bitten.

It was the dunpeal who ended the kiss, pushing D away with startling strength. His eyes seemed brighter than ever, as bright as Doris's had when she offered herself to D all those years ago. D wondered if a kiss with Doris would have been the same. Would he have had the strength to push her away as her son did? A miserable existence, indeed.

_You're not all hot and bothered, are you, D?_ Left Hand quipped. D could feel his smirk stretching across his palm. He clenched his hand into a fist, silencing the irritating symbiote.

The dunpeal licked his lips. "You dropped your hat, pretty pretty." He picked it off the ground and held it out. "Now go. Kill the Noble."

D hesitated for a moment, then took his hat. He walked past the dunpeal. "The girl is starting to turn."

"Then be quick, D, the hunter. If you're too slow, I'll end the girl myself." The dunpeal walked away, black coat fluttering in the wind. "Nice meeting you, though. My mother and uncle were quite fond of you."

D walked down the steps to exit Barbarois and locked the door to his regret once again. He never knew what to feel, so it was best to settle on nothing. As he exited the city, the rain abated.

. . .

When D returned, the Noble's blood that had soaked into his cloak still felt warm. He smelled of sweat, earth, and another man's tears. The gates of Barbarois opened as he approached and the faceless woman walked out, carrying the girl. In the shadows, he caught a glimpse of the dunpeal, hair hanging his face, smoke curling from his cigarette.

The woman handed him the girl. Her lifeless body felt heavy in his arms and her head rolled about her shoulders. The blood on the front of her dress had darkened and dried. D cradled the child and studied the stab wound to her heart-it had been clean and precise.

"She turned shortly after you left. You were not quick enough," the woman said, her voice once again ringing in D's mind.

An ache spread through D's chest, a sympathetic stab to his own heart. He had failed, and he could only return a corpse to the child's aunt, a corpse still bearing the bite of a Noble.

"We are sorry," the woman said.

D nodded, but said nothing. It was not he who would truly suffer over this girl's loss.

"It may not be much consolation, but the administrator says you are welcome back here whenever you like."

"Thank you. Perhaps I will accept your hospitality another time, but I have to leave now. The child should be returned to her family."

The faceless woman bowed. The gates of Barbarois began to close, and she padded back inside. D could see the dunpeal toss his cigarette to the ground and walk away before the doors clanged shut.

_End._


End file.
